The Sea Doesn't Like to be Restrained
by Conor Flanagan
Summary: Zale Leomaris is a Career tribute trained in the art of survival. It is the 30th annual Hunger Games - his year to bring glory to District 4. Will he live up to the hype of being a victor's son or die trying?
1. The Reaping Day

1 – The Reaping Day

I woke up on Reaping day in my bed wishing I could sleep the entire day away. Instead at noon, everyone in District 4 will gather in front of the Justice Building and witness Hurley Finbar and I volunteer for the reaped. I look out of the window at the Victors' Village and see Mags, a forty-year-old mentor who won the 9th Hunger Games, going into town early. Outside of her, the only other victor from our district is my father – Murphy Leomaris. He still has nightmares about his days in the 10th arena and has grown bitter through the murder of my two brothers – Dylan and Edmar.

Dylan volunteered as a Career tribute in the 28th Hunger Games. He fought hard until only a few tributes remained. The Gamemakers obviously loved the chance to kill off a victor's son, so they drowned him in a flood. It's ironic considering that we live in the fishing district and grow up swimming in the sea almost daily.

Edmar played out his role in the 29th Games by allying with the other Careers during training activities. During the bloodbath, he experienced the trademark betrayal by collecting weapons for his allies and the others using one of the knives to stab him in the back.

I decided a few months ago that I would stand out in any way possible. During the parade, the training, the individual sessions, and the Games, I would remain Zale Leomaris. I wouldn't be a lapdog to the Capitol or a sidekick to the other Careers. I would just be me.

I realized it was almost eleven in the morning, so I began to get dressed. It was a black tuxedo with blue and green waves on the trimming. My father had worn it at his Reaping, and so did my brothers at theirs.

Meredith, my ten-year-old sister, walked in with her sea-blue eyes wet with tears. She plopped down on my bed and continued crying. I put my arm around her and begged her to tell me what was wrong. I think I already knew.

"It's just… I couldn't stand it if I lost you," she whimpered as she wiped away tears, "Do you really have to volunteer?"

"I hate this fate as much as you do," I comfort her, "If it was my way, I wouldn't have grown up as a Career. I would've just been a student and a fisher." I brush her black hair out of her face as I speak. "It is my fate, but I will do everything in my ability to win and come home to you."

She likes this idea and smiles slightly. "Oh, you are going to win. I can feel it. You are the strongest, tallest person I know. You can be like daddy and use a trident and defend and fight."

"I'm just glad that mother and father agreed not to train you to become a Career tribute," I begin, "I want you to grow up and live happily and marry and have children." I think of how in a week or two, twenty-three tributes will die in the arena and never experience these things I hope for Meredith.

"I want my husband to be like you, Zale," she smiles even bigger, "He would be nice and caring and strong…"

I stopped her because I can't stand flattery. I know I am humble and shy and when people speak like this to me, I choke up and am close to tears. I don't know how I will handle the interviews with the new host – a young man named Caesar Flickerman.

At this moment, Mother walks in with a twinkle in her eyes. She and my father fight often. She blames my brothers' deaths on him since he wanted them to be Careers and bring glory to our family. Instead they were humiliated and my mother lost two sons. Recently, she's been talking less and less and crying more and more. She smiles only around Meredith and I try to cheer her up, but I can't shake her.

"Oh, Zale, you look handsome as usual," she said matter-of-factly, "And my little baby, you are so-o-o beautiful."

Father tells me how during the post-Games interview he announced his love for my mother and they were married in the Capitol. That's where they conceived Dylan, he often told me. "Her eyes were vibrant and sparkling green and her hair was so dark that it made the night look like daytime. Every man in District 4 envied me. She was that beautiful." You can still see it, but her sadness has decayed her with worry lines and slumped shoulders.

We sat on my bed and chatted a little. My father walked in at eleven-thirty with his salt-and-pepper hair freshly cut. He smiled, but seemed worried. He obviously didn't want a fight with Mother to break out in front of Meredith. She hates these outbreaks and usually runs out of the room sobbing.

"Shall we go?" he said, and we headed out of our front door.

Sicilia Dexter, the District 4 escort, was welcoming in the citizens. We are a bigger district in size and population. Our fishing is done in the sea that we border. It was once known as the Gulf of Mexico before Panem rose out of the ashes of North America.

We are sectioned off by our age. The twelve-year-olds sit in the front and the eighteen-year-old sit in the back. Behind that, our families who are too young or too old stand and watch. I see Meredith holding my mother's hand behind me and my father sits on stage with Mags and Mayor Ahab. I am with the eighteen-year-olds who have their names entered in the poll seven times unless they apply for tesserae which gives them food, but also puts their names in extra times.

I spot Hurley in the female section of the eighteens shaking with fear. I give her a smile and she returns the favor. She is beautiful. Her blonde hair is braided like usual and her eyes are gold-brown. Maybe if the odds were in our favor, we wouldn't be competing against each other. I would love a chance to have a relationship with a woman like Hurley.

I stand next to my best friend – Ervin Ahab. His father is our mayor and his mother runs a seafood restaurant in the town. He looks too old to be eighteen. He has a thick mustache, a wispy goatee, and curly brown hair. We took an extra-curricular course in school together called _Weights and Athletics_. I had it because my father wanted me to use it as another chance to prepare for the Games. Ervin had it because he loved swimming and running and weight lifting. We were both ripped and muscular.

"The beast has entered his cage," he spoke in a deep voice, "How does it feel to have advantages over other tributes – such as being 6-foot-3 and under suspicion of using muscle enhancers?"

He holds out his hand to me, pretending it to be a microphone. "Uh – well, I don't know."

He shakes his head in fake shame, "How are you going to handle your interview? The sponsors need to know you are worth keeping around!"

Mayor Ahab rises to the podium and begins the lengthy Treaty of Treason. After the rebellion known as the Dark Days, the Capitol put us at its mercy with the Hunger Games. His speech was over quicker than it usually goes by.

Sicilia heads to the podium next. She is a Capitol citizen alright. If her baby-blue dreadlocks and wave tattoos in various places didn't give it away, then her accent did. She didn't speak however. She simply walked over to the glass bowl with thousands of papers in it. This was the female drawing that happened first every year. She picked one off of the top since it was pointless to shuffle through it when we had a volunteer ready to go.

A name was called. My heart was racing so fast, I didn't hear.

"Volunteers?" Sicilia said. It was obvious that she was bored with this concept. In another district, volunteers would be unique, but in District 4 we jump at our chance to fight in the arena.

"I volunteer!" shouts Hurley. She has already begun to walk to the stage between two Peacekeepers. Her look is still scared, but she is desperately trying to hide it.

"And your name, darling?"

"Hurley Finbar. 18 years old."

"And so, it is time for the male to be drawn."

Sicilia walks her way across the stage to an identical clear bowl and reaches in a tad. She has a piece of paper in her hands and unfolded in a few seconds. She is confused, dumbfounded, stumbling for words.

"Uh – er – the male tribute is Mayor Ahab's son – Ervin!"


	2. A District Token

2 – A District Token

I didn't even wait for Sicilia to formally ask for a volunteer. I raised my voice, "I volunteer as tribute!" and began to walk down the aisle to the stage between two Peacekeepers I knew personally – Randolph and Lloyd.

_Dolph_ was a man in his 50's. He had skin the color of worn-down leather and a bald head. Along with being a Peacekeeper, he taught various classes at school and I had taken many of his courses.

Lloyd was a good friend of my father. He was about the same age as my father – forty and had a deep fisherman's tan. Along with being a Peacekeeper, he was a trainer for the Career tributes in our district. He had worked closely with my brothers, Hurley, others, and I.

"You are an eager beaver aren't you, kid?" Sicilia hissed, as I stepped on to stage, "What is your name?"

"Zale Leomaris," I mustered all of my courage into saying those two words as loudly and proudly as possible.

"Murphy's son?" she seemed a little surprised, "Murphy's kids for three years straight, huh?"

"My brother's had names," I snapped back, "Dylan and Edmar."

She didn't speak again. She simply motioned for Hurley and me to shake each other's hands. Next, we were gathered into the Justice Building by Sicilia and other Peacekeepers before our train to the Capitol was ready to depart. At this time, family and friends would come visit us and wish us good luck.

The room was spectacular. Through the window, you had a view of Capitol workers cleaning up the town square after the reaping ceremonies had concluded. I sat on a beautiful Victorian-style couch and waited for a visitor.

My brain rewound to the time I had visited Dylan two years ago in this very room. He had been cocky and kept on telling us he would see us in a month or so after he won.

Then, there was last year when Edmar was hyperventilating and crying in Mother's lap. He kept on saying that he wasn't ready. That he didn't want to die like Dylan had.

My mother walked in with Meredith still attached to her hand. Mother looked like a million emotions were running through her head at one moment. Meredith was impossible to read. She just came over to the couch and latched on to me.

"I love you both," I said. It was the only words I could form in my mind to sound brave in front of my family. I couldn't be overly cocky like Dylan or dramatic like Edmar.

"You are going to win," Meredith spoke up, "In honor of our brothers, our district, our family. You have been trained to become victor."

"Listen, son," my mother held her emotions at bay for the moment, "I know that you think I have given up on your chances of winning because of Dylan and Edmar's cruel fate. But I haven't. I have faith in you, Zale."

I smiled at her and she smiled back. "I won't allow the Capitol to control me. My allies won't be the other Careers. I am not going to be their backbone this year."

A Peacekeeper poked his head in. My family's time was over. Mayor Ahab and Ervin walked in after I had kissed Meredith and Mother good-bye. I was surprised at the mayor's appearance, but not at Ervin's.

"Thank you for volunteering for my son," he said, as he sat down on the couch across from me, "I know it was your duty, but still… thank you, again."

Ervin sat with him and spoke, "Everybody loves you. The strength and power you put into your words. You could even make Sicilia shut up. That is skill. Good luck."

"One more thing," the mayor said. He pulled a trident tie-clip made of sea-stone out of his pocket. "Tributes are allowed only one token from their districts. I would be honored if you wore this in the arena."

He stood up and placed it in my hand. I thanked them for the token. They seemed ready to leave, but I stopped Ervin. "You are my best friend. If I don't make it back, promise me you will remember me."

"I will never forget you, Zale," he said, the big guy was close to tears, "That is if you don't win, but you will. See you soon, I hope."

I shook hands with the mayor and Ervin and watched them walk out of the door. I saw Dolph and Lloyd enter only seconds later. I was sure this meeting was frowned upon. For Peacekeepers to want to talk to a tribute before he is sent off to the Capitol is a rare occasion. They hardly ever hold friendships with the people they protect.

As usual, the visitors both took their seats across from me after shaking my hand on the way in. I waited for them to speak, but I guess I had to break the ice.

"Thank you for the mentoring," I said, "I hope your training skills and school courses help keep me alive."

Lloyd piped up, "What will keep you alive is the sponsors. That means your interview must be stunning, your training must be over-the-top. Use your words. They were powerful today and they will do you good along the way. Sponsors will want to keep you around."

I nodded constantly as he spoke. I said, "And what about battle tactics and defensing strategies?"

"I do not know if you plan on allying with the Career pack, as usual," he continued, "but get a sword, a trident, hell – even a bow and arrows will do. Gather with your allies and fight or get out the bloodbath and find shelter."

My eyes were strained from focusing on him speaking. "Thank you-"

"Quit being overly nice," Dolph spoke after all, "I know that is just your personality, but we want the untrained tributes fear you. We want the Careers to envy you. You look like a monster, but you are a gentle giant."

"That's enough, Randolph," Lloyd said calmly, "Mags and Murphy can mentor him from here. Happy Hunger Games-"

"and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Dolph finished the Capitol's saying and patted me on the back. Lloyd clapped my back, too. And soon they were both out of the room.

Of course, the biggest surprise walked in the door a couple of minutes later. Mr. and Mrs. Finbar – Hurley's parents came in with emotionless faces.

"Hello, Zale," began Mr. Finbar, "You have an aura. Strength with your words and actions. Your words could change the world. I suggest you use them."

"Yes, sir," I said. I was still wondering why they were here. They didn't even sit down, but stood right in front of me.

"Protect our daughter," Mrs. Finbar said, with the saddest look I had ever received, "Between the three of us, she has had a crush on you for years. What a shame that you must fight together in an arena instead of loving each other in our district."

Mr. Finbar was hard to read. He had been a trainer for Careers along with Lloyd, Mags, my father, and others for years. He pushed Hurley hard and she often told me she wished she had been born to a poor fisherman's family instead.

"When I first saw you, I thought ol' Murphy had fathered a young weakling," he said, "But look at you now, boy. You are a brick wall." He punched me mindlessly like friends often do. It was hard to look at this man in the eyes because he had Hurley's eyes. "Handsome, too. You are going to make a good victor, kid."

_What? _was my first though, _He wants me to win. Not even his own flesh and blood. _I was appalled. How could he be so cruel? He had been working Hurley to death and he doesn't even believe in her. I didn't reply after that.

I sat quietly until they got the message and left my holding chambers. I was actually relieved when a couple of Peacekeepers retrieved me and brought me down to the Capitol train. Hurley, Sicilia, my father, Mags, and I boarded and waved good-bye to our friends and family.

The five of us ate dinner silently. I was accustomed to the fancier foods of the Capitol since my father is rich and has our Victors' Village house stocked with delicacies.

I had ordered a simple clam chowder. It reminded me of home. Often times after school, Ervin and I would walk into town and go to his mother's seafood restaurant. We would order clam chowder and hang out until he had to start his shift at the restaurant and I had to go to training.

Sicilia was talking and talking and talking. Everyone else remained silent. Mags was casually smiling around the table. My father had torn apart his meal of what I had thought was a sandwich at one point. Now, he just drank wine and listened to Sicilia banter.

"When do they start replaying the reapings?" I interrupt her, "I want to see my competition."

"Oh, five minutes, darling," she spoke back, but she was still steamed about my interrupting her, "Shall we gather and watch?"

The television set was even bigger than the one in our family room. An Avox – someone who committed treason against the Capitol and became their tongue-less slave, was fetching wine for my father and Sicilia.

"Ooh, those District 1 volunteers would make good allies," said Sicilia. Although, I was thinking, _or good enemies_. They were always well trained Careers, but they were stuck-up and had the strangest names. I think it had been a District 1 that had stabbed my brother in the back last year. That thought gave me motivation.

District 2 had multiples trying to volunteer until they settled on the two biggest and strongest Careers. Again it rang true that they could be my allies in a heartbeat or my worst enemies in the final days of the arena.

Our Reaping was televised and I was struck by how powerful I looked. If I hadn't been me, then I would have been scared of me. Hurley looked scared, but she looked beautiful as always.

Tributes ran by in a blurry mesh from that point. I was struck by a young boy from District 9 and a natural beauty from District 10. There was a giant from District 11 with a build much like mine. He would be tough competition or possibly –

"He would make a great ally," I spoke, and soon regretted it.

"District 11?" Sicilia mocked me, "Please, he would be unreliable. I can spot a traitor – hmm… maybe even a cannibal when I see one."

"Well, look at him," I wouldn't lose this battle to her, "He is built like me. Big and strong and hopefully good with an axe."

"He would use that axe to kill you!"

"How is that any different from what Ed's allies did to him?"

She shut up quick. The boy from District 12's stats stunned me. He had his name in the Reaping fifty-three times. That is a lot more than seven.

Mags spoke as soon as the television went black, "I suggest we try for some sleep. We are arriving at the Capitol at 3-in-the-morning. Prepare to meet your stylists soon afterward. Good night, everyone."


	3. The Tribute Parade

3 – The Tribute Parade

I yawned while Paola, Antonio, and Xandra trimmed my sideburns. They had already shaved my five-o'clock shadow clean off of my face and my stubbly neck hair. My raven-colored hair had been cut crew-style. They had waxed away pretty much my entire body hair.

Xandra started plucking my nose hairs. I flinched only the first time. From there on, I waited patiently and acted bored. I didn't want these simple-minded Capitol citizens looking down on me and spreading rumors to their friends who might possibly be sponsors.

"The District 2 tributes look especially good this year," said Paola. She was only about four-and-a-half feet tall and had rings on her ears, her nose, you name it. She looked like an albino with pink pupils and unusually white skin.

"Wouldn't doubt it," replied Antonio, "They train them strict in that district. I always place a bet on them."

Antonio was Oriental and looked almost normal. But this was the Capitol, so he had his hair dyed in a tiger pattern. Outside of this, he looked like an ordinary human being.

Xandra yanked out the last few nose hairs, and spoke, "Usually District 11 doesn't stand a chance, but that boy is a beast. I might place a bet or two on that one."

It was always about them in the Capitol. Never _Oh, poor kid is going to die a painful death_, but _I better make money off of this kid_. They are incompetent and inhumane. They don't see the pain in watching your brothers die on national television. I can't hate them because of their upbringing. I don't envy them either. I'd rather be capable of using my brain and dying than being self-absorbed and greedy.

Xandra's looks were no exception. She had her skin dyed bright yellow and wore a neon-yellow wig. She pranced around me in her ecstatic attitude. She said, "Pax is probably anxious to see you. She will be in shortly."

My three stylists ushered themselves out of the room and into a window-walled hallway with a beautiful view of the Capitol. A couple of minutes later, a woman with strawberry blonde hair walked in and examined my naked body severely.

"I am Pax, a fourth-year stylist," she began, "and yes, I watched over your brothers. I am sorry for your losses. I am sorry that you bear the weight of living in your father's footsteps and your brothers' shame."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter what you do in your training, your interview, and so on, they will be comparing you to your family. Whether that means winning or losing can depend on a number of things."

"I can't lose. That would mean the likeliness of my parents divorcing and Meredith's childhood being torn apart. I must win."

"I like your spirit. Don't be too arrogant. That was Dylan's fatal flaw – his pride. He knew he would win, so the Gamemakers had to kill him off. He was too headstrong. Didn't believe even the Capitol would be able to kill him. He wasn't at the other tributes' mercy, but he would always be putty in the Capitol's hands."

This angered me. My brother didn't deserve a death at their hands. He was born a victor. I was about to voice my opinions, when she beckoned me to a lunch buffet in another room.

"So will I be sporting seaweed or a fisherman's outfit this year?" I said sarcastically. It seems that every year, our tributes end up dressed like this.

"No, things are going to be different. I am working with Hurley's stylist – Ulysses this year and we plan on making you the main event of the Tribute Parade."

I ate so much I accidentally threw up on the leather couch we sat upon. She called a couple Avoxes to clean everything up and we headed to dress me up for the parade. My other stylists came back in and had a brief greeting with Pax. They complimented her on her natural sea-green eyes and simple plaid dress.

I was dressed in Ancient Greek armor. My helm covered my entire head except for my eyes, mouth and chin; its plumage was a dark blue. I clipped my district token to a chink in my armor. Antonio tied up my calf-high sandals. Xandra handed me a trident. Paola touched me up with makeup. Pax seemed impressed with her work.

"So your chariot is going to be an over-sized fish tank with the two of you swimming in it," she said, waiting for my reactions, "Along with a couple of exotic fishes."

"Won't this armor weigh me down?"

"No, no, you are tall enough to stand in the sea water and not drown."

"And Hurley? What is she wearing?"

"An Ancient Greek chiton and seashells braided into her hair. She is going to be your damsel in distress and you are a warrior of the sea."

Pax, my stylists and I met up with Hurley, Ulysses and her stylists and took the elevator down to the Training Center. It is also where our chariots are being held and we will be taken through a door and paraded around from here.

Sicilia walks up rapidly speaking to Mags and my father who both appear to be zoning out her words. They smiled when they saw us, until they saw our chariot. Sicilia was yelling at Pax and Ulysses about endangering our lives and our possibility of drowning.

We can swim. We grow up swimming our summers away in the fishing district. Mags and my father were trying to calm her down with little resolve. She thinks that since we don't grow up with a swimming pool in our backyards that we haven't any knowledge of it.

It is time to get into our chariots and prepare to wow the crowd. Sicilia will most likely pick this conversation back up at the dinner table tonight. But for now, she is at ease and watching us make final preparations.

District 1 ride out first. That means we will be fourth out of the Training Center and into the screaming and yelling of Capitol citizens calling our names. And here it comes. I was at shock. There were probably thousands and thousands of people packed together in bleachers.

They went absolutely berserk when they saw us. I held Hurley like a baby in arms while still maintaining hold of the trident. She winked at the crowd and waved and smiled and blew kisses everywhere. Citizens were catching them and bringing the kisses to their lips or hugging it in their arms.

I smiled and gripped Hurley tighter and tighter as we went along. Next, I placed her down in the sea water and speared a fish with my weapon of choice. I ripped the meal apart and shared the raw meat with her. I even tossed the used fish carcass into the crowd and laughed a little bit.

All they want is a show. If they get their show, we get to live another day in the arena thanks to our sponsors' gifts.

We stopped in front of our president – Antimony Snow. He was aged beyond years. He could've been over hundred years old by now. His son – Coriolanus was probably anxiously awaiting his chance to run for president when his father passes on.

President Snow was barely audible thanks to the microphone, but his message was the same every year. He told the story of the Dark Ages when he personally brought justice and peace to his people and wrote the Treaty of Treason. He congratulated us on our reapings and chariots and wished us luck.

Our horses were redirected back to the Training Center. We arrived to the smiling faces of our mentors and stylists. They had loved our performances and ensured us that it would be the highlights of the night.

"Where's Ms. Dexter?" piped up Hurley. She had grown fond of Sicilia for reasons I couldn't understand in these past couple of days.

"She is on our floor, watching the re-runs," said Mags, "You remember her anger earlier? It became joy when she saw your performances and she said she 'must, must, must catch the highlights'."

Mags was one of the kindest women I have ever come to know. I don't know how she could live all alone in that Victors' Village house. She deserved a husband to love her.

Ulysses was overjoyed, "You two are dashing! I can bet the sponsors are already lining up for you!"

We got on the elevator together that would take us to the fourth floor. I hope Ulysses is right. I could use the help. I am everything, but likeable. That is one thing Edmar possessed that I never could control. People still talk about his interviews and kindness to the Capitol citizens.

I was too exhausted to do anything, but fall asleep. I didn't watch the re-runs of the Tribute Parade or take a famous Capitol shower. I simply closed my eyes and dreamed.


	4. Temporary Alliances

4 – Temporary Alliances

I woke up and glanced at the alarm clock. It was only 6:24, but I knew that everyone else was probably already enjoying breakfast before our first training session. I slipped on a plain cotton t-shirt, cotton sweatpants, and slippers.

At the dining table sat the District 4 crew. Sicilia was nagging my father for who knows what. Mags was giving Hurley advice about what to do at the Training Center. Pax and Ulysses had hardly touched their breakfast and instead were deep in a conversation about our interview outfits.

I waved an Avox over and ordered a District 4 favorite of mine – a lox and cream cheese bagel. I listened in on Mags' instructions while I ate bagel after bagel.

"Focus on the non-combat stations," she was stating, "Death comes in many forms; food poisoning, disease, hunger, or a many of other things. You can use whatever weapon you favor in the private sessions. You don't want anyone… even your closest allies knowing your strengths."

"We already know that the other Careers will be trying to scare the other tributes," I joined in to the conversation, "Can't we do this a little?"

"If your strategy is to reveal your strengths and weaknesses to everyone in hopes that they give in to their fears, go for it," Mags replied, "However, the Gamemakers will not be the least bit surprised in the private sessions. They have seen you doing this before, therefore that leaves them unimpressed."

"Should we stick together?" Hurley asked, "I mean, like, us and the other Career tributes?"

"Is your wish to ally with Zale and the others?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, so introduce yourselves to the other Careers as soon as training begins. The more experience you have with them the better. Involve yourself in activities with the others and here and there do exercises on your own."

Father joined in, "Eat lunch with the other four. _The Career pack_ will make you look stronger to the other tributes and the observing Gamemakers. Got it?"

We replied simultaneously, "Yes, sir." I had eaten five lox and cream cheese bagels along with two glasses of protein-enhanced milk. I was ready to go. I had to prove that I was not a Career sidekick, not my father, and not my brothers. I was proving that I was Zale.

Sicilia rode with us in the elevator until we were below ground, in the Training Center. It was just like the one in District 4. Our district had replicated it and I had used it as my training grounds and home away from home for years.

"Listen to the instructors. Impress the Gamemakers. You know the drill."

The twenty-two tributes that occupied the gymnasium had their eyes focused on us. Some looked impressed, some looked terrified, a few (I assumed them to be my so-called allies) had smiles plastered on their faces.

I heard one tribute whispering to another, "He didn't look that tall on television."

The other one replied, "Or that muscular."

We gathered in a circle around the head instructor – a fit, bearded man named Abraham. He looked like a lumberjack from District 7. He was burly and thick with harsh, dark eyes.

"Listen up! Above you-" he points upward, "are the Gamemakers. Around you-" he spins around and points, "are the various stations to help you stay alive in the arena. If you have any questions, look for me or any of the other instructors that run the stations. Enjoy!"

Hurley had already walked over to a group of four tributes, so I jogged over. She had already introduced herself to the other Careers.

"I'm Yttrium, District 1," said a skinny, but well-built tribute, "Back home, they call me Rum." I sized him up. He was about six-foot. He had long, blonde hair and dark eyes like Abraham. I wasn't sure if he was my friend or my enemy yet.

"I am Magenta, District 1," said another tribute. She had strawberry blonde hair like Pax and midnight blue eyes. She was likely five-foot-eleven and fast.

A tanned tribute with muscles larger than my own began, "I am Victor, District 2." His parents wanted him to be a victor that bad. I decided right then and there that he was an enemy. I judged him to be vicious and greedy; killing anybody that got in the way of his crown. His hair was buzzed, but it appeared dark brown. He had darker eyes than Abraham, Rum, or anyone that came to mind.

"Valentina, District 2," she was the shortest of the group, the only one shorter than five-foot-six, "You can call me Tina or Val." She was only person to flash a smile to the lot. I decided to trust her for now. She struck me as a caring person. Her hair was toe-head white and her eyes were blue.

I introduced myself with confidence in my voice. I didn't smile or express emotions. They were not going to judge me yet. They would learn in good time.

Victor glanced around the gymnasium for a moment or two. His eyes caught what he was looking for and he directed our attention to the boy, or should I say man, from District 11. He had skin the color of teakwood and dreadlocks pulled back in a ponytail. He was benching by my count 405 pounds.

"We could use him," Victor stated. Everyone else shook their heads in agreement. I just stood there with my eyes focused on his work-out.

"I can handle this," I said, as I walked over to him. I shook his hand, "My name is Zale. Do you need a spotter?"

"Douglass. I know what you want. I don't want to be in that group of show-offs and muscle-heads. That means you, too."

"I don't really want to either. I'm sticking with them in training, but I am breaking off when the gong sounds. Mind if I do a set?"

"No, go ahead. So I can form a temporary training alliance with you and the others?"

"They would love that. I couldn't care less."

"I heard you are a victor's son. I heard your brothers died in the Hunger Games."

"And this is why I doubt I will remain in their super-group. They will dub you and I the sidekicks, even though we will be the core. Their backbone."

We worked out together for another half-hour. The Careers had dispersed and were doing activities of their calibers. I was dripping in sweat and we called it quits.

"I have decided to join this alliance temporarily," Douglass said, shaking my hand. Victor was obviously eavesdropping because he came over and introduced himself. The other four came over and did the same.

Victor went back to using a sword in each hand and decapitating over fifteen dummies in about thirty seconds. Valentina was nailing a dummy in the bulls-eyes painted on its chest every single time with her bow and arrows in hand.

Rum had selected a mace. He took over for Victor and slammed his weapon into the dummies with such force that they flew through the air and landed at spans of ten to fifteen feet away. Magenta took over for Tina and starting throwing knives rapidly at the dummy. Seven hit the bulls-eye on the face, two hit the bulls-eye on the chest, and one cut off the dummy's hand.

I joined Hurley and Douglass at an edible plants station. The instructor was helpful and made buzzing noises when one of us selected a poisonous snack. It was the most fun I had had since I arrived in the Capitol.

We ate lunch in the Training Center at a banquet set up in the middle of the gymnasium. The seven of us sat at a table together and scarfed down heaping amounts of food. We spoke of our plans for the afternoon work-outs. Against Mags' wishes, Hurley would learn to use a bow and arrow. Tina would teach her. Rum and Victor invited Douglass and I to attend the wrestling station with them.

I paired up with Douglass. We were both well over six-foot and strong. He would pin me and I would pin him. We went back and forth until the other two ditched us. I wanted to test my abilities against one of them.

I walked by Hurley and Tina several times throughout the afternoon. Douglass and I did our own thing. We attended the camouflage station, the snares station, the water and other drinking sources station, and others. I was exhausted when I got into the elevator at the end of the day.

It was myself and the girl from District 10. I smiled at her and she gave me one back. She introduced herself as Lucy. I headed out of the door on level four.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Zale-"

"I know who you are." The door closed and the last thing I saw was her stunning smile and a wave good-bye.


	5. Friends and Enemies

5 – Friends and Enemies

As I walked down the hallway toward the dining table, the only image I could form in my head was the beautiful girl from District 10. Her curly hair had been dark brown and tied in a side ponytail. Her eyes had been an exotic color of copper.

I sat down, with six pairs of eyes focused on me. Sicilia had that _pissed off_ look on her face. I stopped smiling the moment I realized I was doing so.

"I said-" began Sicilia before I cut her off.

"Said what?

"I said, 'How did it go?'"

"When was that?"

"Just before you sat down. What is wrong with you, child?"

"Oh, I guess I am just happy. Today went great. I'm sorry I was the last one up. I was finishing up at an activity with Douglass."

"I cannot believe the Career pack allied with a District 11 boy-"

Again, I cut her off, "Boy? I would define him as a man. He is going to be a contender for sure. I can feel it."

"Listen, kid. I would appreciate it if you stopped interrupted me. I am simply voicing the opinions I have a right to as your escort."

"We decided to take our chances on him. Our opinions actually matter once the Games begin."

Mags spoke before Sicilia could, "So Hurley, how did you like your first day of training activities?"

She replied, "Tina taught me how to use a bow and arrow. I'm getting the hang of it. She is really kind and sweet."

"And you, Zale?"

"Well, Douglass and I weight lifted for most of the morning. I spent the entire day with him. Rum and Victor kept on ditching us."

My father had anger in his voice, "You become the leader of the group, you understand? Rum and Victor are dangerous. They can bring civil harm to the Careers. Take lead!" I could tell he was recalling Ed's death. The Careers had taken advantage of my brother and killed him off early. I hated being in the _muscle-heads_, as Douglass put it. I hated the Careers.

I ate as many comfort foods as I could hold. I had a bowl of clam chowder, two plates of king crab legs, a shrimp cocktail, and a plate of steamed tuna. We wrapped it up and I headed to my room. It was early, but I was dog-tired as usual. I drifted off to sleep.

I didn't have time to eat breakfast. I woke up, got dressed as fast as possible, and appeared next to Hurley for the elevator ride down to the Training Center. It would be our second day of training in the Capitol. For us, it would be our thousandth day of training in total.

I didn't care about revealing my strengths to the other tributes or the Gamemakers. I needed to get my hands on a weapon. I would favor a trident, but I could make do with a sword, an axe, or maybe even a bow and arrow.

I don't understand how in the years we had trained together, Hurley had never made use of a bow and arrow. It would take a down-to-earth District 2 girl like Tina to get her to pursue the weapon.

I had learned that even though Victor came off as the dominating force in the Arena and Rum was a born leader, or should I say dictator; the true enemy was the Capitol. I convinced myself to realize that nobody in the arena was my rightful enemy. The Capitol had distorted my mind into believing that.

We walked in just before Abraham had begun another pre-training session discussion. He spoke to us about the necessity of all activities. He confirmed that the ones who made it past the bloodbath would most likely die of natural causes. He wrapped it up and let us go.

Tina was already teaching Hurley more technique with a bow. Magenta was already halfway through the obstacle course by now. In a couple of seconds, she will have slain the dummy at the end of the course.

Douglass and I invited Rum and Victor to come weight lift with us. They did this with us for about ten minutes until they decided to try some hand-to-hand combat practice instead. We continued for an entire hour. We both left that area soar as could be.

I wanted to find Lucy and get to know her better. I just can't get her voice out of my head. Douglass wanted to attend the wrestling station again, but I spotted her at the knot-tying station. She was with the boy from her district, and the two tributes from District 9.

I sat down in between her and Douglass. The instructor was going over basic knots. I was decent with this activity because I would often help Ervin make fishing nets to get meals for the restaurant back home.

"Okay, go ahead and attempt this one," she said, "Feel free to talk amongst each other if the need be."

I leaned over, and whispered, "How did you know my name?"

"Well," she replied, with a little snicker, "you made a big _splash_ at the Opening Ceremonies. On the re-runs, it was 'Zale and Hurley' this and 'Zale and Hurley' that."

I started tying a fishing net instead of the easier knot that everyone else was beginning to conquer, and laughed, "Oh, really? Did they appreciate your attire?"

"We wore cowboy hats, flannel shirts, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. It was cliché District 10. I wish we could've had an abstract idea like your stylists."

"District 10 is livestock, right?"

"Yeah, we wear almost the same outfits every single year. I doubt those Capitol citizens even gave us a second glance."

By the end of her sentence, I had finished my net and was beginning another one. I glanced over at Douglass who had gotten mad with his pieces of rope and had torn them to shreds.

"Have you met Douglass?" I said, directing my view to him which she followed.

"Hello, my name is Lucy," she said to him and shook his oven-mitt sized hands, "I see that your knot-tying is doing well."

I started laughing, and even Douglass smiled a little. The other three tributes directed their views over to us.

Lucy pointed to the kid who sat next to her, and asked, "Have you met Boyne? He is my thirteen-year-old cousin. The odds were not in our family's favor this year."

I shook his hand as I examined the kid. He literally was a child. He looked much like Lucy except for his younger face. His hair was dark brown and greasy, but he still had those copper-colored eyes. I estimated he stood about five-foot.

"That reminds me," I said, "How old are you, Lucy?"

"Seventeen," she said simply, "And how old are the two of you? Twenty-two?"

"Good one, Cowgirl."

"Oh, so is that like your nickname for me now?"

The instructor informed us that lunch was in a half-hour and if we wanted to go anywhere else she was finished teaching. The District 9 tributes left.

I replied, "Yes, ma'am. Why does it bother you?"

"Not as long as Seaweed doesn't bother you."

I showed Douglass, Lucy, and Boyne how to construct a basic fishing net. It would hopefully come in handy in the Games. We were soon called to a lunch buffet of almost everything.

The Careers sat together at a secluded table as usual. I would wish to invite Boyne and Lucy over, but the others would be rude to them, save Tina. I was tempted to go sit with them and bring along Douglass, but if our escort heard about this action she would have a tantrum.

My appetite proved fair. I listened to Tina tell a funny story until Rum interrupted her. He started showing us the cuts and bruises he had given to Victor. Tina resumed her tale until it was finished and she had us laughing.

The Capitol has manufactured us as monsters. I hate to admit it, but with the creation of the Hunger Games, it allowed the wealthier districts to establish a training program and become the stuck-up jerks that everyone at school hates.

I decided that it was my chance to maim some practice dummies for once. I ran over to the weaponry rack and selected a spear. It surprised me with its lack of weight. I stood back and threw it deep into a dummy's chest. I watched a couple tributes glance over as they walked by on their way to an exercise.

I grabbed a double-sided axe and decapitated a dummy with a single swipe. I spun around and threw the axe like a Frisbee disk. It dug into a dummy's stomach and sent it crashing to the floor.

I was reaching for a flail, a spiked ball connected to a chain and handle, when a hand blocked my path. I looked at its owner. It was Rum, of course. The flail was his weapon of choice.

"Slow down," he said. His slight smile told me he was saying _I am the boss. This is my weapon._ "A flail is a tough skill to master. You could hurt yourself."

I didn't want to show any weaknesses. I grabbed the handle and gripped it firmly. I turned back toward the practice dummies. I swung the mace above my head four or five times and smashed it into a bulls-eye painted on to a face.

My anger conquered everything else and I sent the flail flying fifty feet into the nearest wall. A couple of the spikes had nailed into the wall.

_I shouldn't have done this, _I thought. By defying Rum's wishes, I had made it obvious that I wasn't putting up with his crap. He might realize my false loyalty to being a background Career and kill me at the Cornucopia.

I walked off and found Hurley. She, Magenta, and Tina were in a three-way wrestling match. Douglass was standing close by and watching with enthusiasm. I joined him, and told him about my weaponry training and Rum's interruption.

"He might consider you an enemy," he replied, "I don't mean to bring this up, but it could be a repeat of your brother's death."

"I could care less," I said, "The other Careers can try to kill me in the bloodbath if they want. I'm betraying them, so why does it matter if they do the same?"

"I think I'm sticking with them in the arena," he said, "My mentor, he thinks that this gives me a chance; that the Career tributes took interest in me."

"You are strong enough without them. You still have incredibly good chances without the manipulation of them. They will get you to do the hard work, and then kill you."

"I could actually have resources. Weapons, rations, and shelter are all at the Cornucopia where the Careers usually set up camp."

The rest of the day was a blur. I traveled around to the stations I hadn't visited yet with Douglass, and occasionally Hurley, Magenta, and Tina. Every once in a while, we would go to an activity with Lucy and Boyne.

I hadn't any energy at the conclusion of the training day. I eagerly awaited dinner as I traveled up in the elevator. Hurley and I stepped out on to the fourth floor. We wafted the smell of delicious foods to our noses and speed walked to the dining table.

"The private sessions with the Gamemakers are tomorrow evening as usual," Mags said, "My advice is to surprise them and do something they haven't seen before. That will get you noticed. That will get you a good score."

The Gamemakers rank us on a scale of 1 to 12 at the conclusion of the private sessions. Most likely, the victor would have received a high ranking of 8-12 back in their session. Dylan had gotten a 12 which is extremely rare even for a Career tribute. Edmar had gotten an 8 which guaranteed him good chances.

"Hurley," my father addressed her, "Use the bow. I know they have seen you use it before, but find a way to stun them. And Zale, I expect you to stun them with a weapon of your choosing. I don't know what you favor considering that you master pretty much every weapon I hand you."

Our minds were reeling. I ate slowly and listened to Pax. She said, "I was thinking of getting the Gamemakers' attention in another way. I was thinking that Zale should pay tribute to the brothers he lost at the hands of the Capitol and their Games."


End file.
